Ficlet: If I Could Turn Back Time
Belated Happy Birthdays to spikereader, just_sue, and myfeetshowit
It occurred to me recently that the premise of the ‘Terminator’ movies is perhaps the most deeply flawed plot of any SF series. Never mind the time travel, Skynet’s plan totally sucks. Starting a nuclear war to wipe out humanity? Nuclear explosions cause massive electro-magnetic pulses far deadlier to computers than the explosions and fall-out are to humans. Yes, the humans would die, but Skynet would die first. Fail.
Despite the ludicrous premise the first two films were extremely entertaining. Shame about T3. I never watched the Sarah Connor Chronicles but I recently read a Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles/BtVS crossover, by Dave Turner, at ‘Twisting the Hellmouth’; it was the loose inspiration for this rather silly non-crossover (although knowledge of T1 & T2 helps) mini-ficlet that I knocked off this morning. BtVS Season 5; set three or four months prior to I Was Made To Love You, but makes use of Season 8 material. 400 words, PG.
If I Could Turn Back Time
Warren came out of class and set off to return to his room. He noticed the hot chick, ‘cause hey, male here, but he didn’t pay her much attention because she was obviously way out of his league.
“Hi, Warren.”
Warren’s jaw dropped. The hot chick was speaking to him. “Uh, do I know you?” Not that he did know her, no way could he have forgotten someone that hot, unless she was, like, some cousin that he hadn’t seen since they were both five or something.
“Not yet,” the chick said. “You will. In fact, you’ll make me.”
“Make you what?” Warren’s eyebrows had climbed so high that they were being reported to air traffic control as a flight hazard.
“I’d better tell you the full story,” the chick said. “I’m April Veesix. I’m from the future.”
“This is some kind of a joke, right? Who put you up to this?”
“You did,” April said. “You sent me back in time to stop you making a serious mistake that will get you skinned alive, pulled back from the brink of death, and forced to live a horrible skinless existence with a crazy rat as your partner.”
Warren’s eyebrows escaped the atmosphere and went into geostationary orbit. “All I can say to that is… huh?”
“I’m a robot,” April went on. “Highly advanced. My AI pretty much defines intelligence, I build scale model monorails using little magnets, and I don’t knit sweaters.”
“I don’t know what your game is,” Warren began.
“D&D, by preference,” April told him. “I DM too, and I’m pretty good at it.” She gave him a quirky smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners, showing she was well aware she was scoring a point. “Face it, Warren, I’m your perfect woman.”
“Uh, yeah,” Warren mumbled. “But, hey, robot.”
“You’d never have guessed if I hadn’t told you,” April said. “Never mind the Turing Test, I could fool doctors. Well, as long as they didn’t take blood samples.”
“You’re, uh, anatomically correct?”
“Damn right,” April said, with a nod. “I’m a sexbot.”
Warren’s jaw dropped so low that it bounced off his chest. “A sexbot?”
“Correct in every detail, with synthetic internal musculature, programmed with all your favorite sexual acts, no matter how kinky,” April said, “and I never have a headache. I’m your dream girl.” She grinned impishly. “Live with me if you want to come.”
It occurred to me recently that the premise of the ‘Terminator’ movies is perhaps the most deeply flawed plot of any SF series. Never mind the time travel, Skynet’s plan totally sucks. Starting a nuclear war to wipe out humanity? Nuclear explosions cause massive electro-magnetic pulses far deadlier to computers than the explosions and fall-out are to humans. Yes, the humans would die, but Skynet would die first. Fail.
Despite the ludicrous premise the first two films were extremely entertaining. Shame about T3. I never watched the Sarah Connor Chronicles but I recently read a Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles/BtVS crossover, by Dave Turner, at ‘Twisting the Hellmouth’; it was the loose inspiration for this rather silly non-crossover (although knowledge of T1 & T2 helps) mini-ficlet that I knocked off this morning. BtVS Season 5; set three or four months prior to I Was Made To Love You, but makes use of Season 8 material. 400 words, PG.
If I Could Turn Back Time
Warren came out of class and set off to return to his room. He noticed the hot chick, ‘cause hey, male here, but he didn’t pay her much attention because she was obviously way out of his league.
“Hi, Warren.”
Warren’s jaw dropped. The hot chick was speaking to him. “Uh, do I know you?” Not that he did know her, no way could he have forgotten someone that hot, unless she was, like, some cousin that he hadn’t seen since they were both five or something.
“Not yet,” the chick said. “You will. In fact, you’ll make me.”
“Make you what?” Warren’s eyebrows had climbed so high that they were being reported to air traffic control as a flight hazard.
“I’d better tell you the full story,” the chick said. “I’m April Veesix. I’m from the future.”
“This is some kind of a joke, right? Who put you up to this?”
“You did,” April said. “You sent me back in time to stop you making a serious mistake that will get you skinned alive, pulled back from the brink of death, and forced to live a horrible skinless existence with a crazy rat as your partner.”
Warren’s eyebrows escaped the atmosphere and went into geostationary orbit. “All I can say to that is… huh?”
“I’m a robot,” April went on. “Highly advanced. My AI pretty much defines intelligence, I build scale model monorails using little magnets, and I don’t knit sweaters.”
“I don’t know what your game is,” Warren began.
“D&D, by preference,” April told him. “I DM too, and I’m pretty good at it.” She gave him a quirky smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners, showing she was well aware she was scoring a point. “Face it, Warren, I’m your perfect woman.”
“Uh, yeah,” Warren mumbled. “But, hey, robot.”
“You’d never have guessed if I hadn’t told you,” April said. “Never mind the Turing Test, I could fool doctors. Well, as long as they didn’t take blood samples.”
“You’re, uh, anatomically correct?”
“Damn right,” April said, with a nod. “I’m a sexbot.”
Warren’s jaw dropped so low that it bounced off his chest. “A sexbot?”
“Correct in every detail, with synthetic internal musculature, programmed with all your favorite sexual acts, no matter how kinky,” April said, “and I never have a headache. I’m your dream girl.” She grinned impishly. “Live with me if you want to come.”